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Cfce Cast Wivto'x 



By Ellen Stata Taylor 



L«£»i 



Published by 

Elizabeth J. Sirovich, Editor EAST WIND, Hull, Mass. 

and 

Ellen Stata Taylor, Norwood, Mass. 

PRICE TEN CENTS, POSTPAID 



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These verses are reprinted from the EAST 
WIND, where they were published during the past 
season. 

We are told many times that God sent the East 
Wind as His messenger. It was a messenger of 
punishment to the land of Pharaoh, and brought the 
plague of locusts. It was a messenger of deliver- 
ance to the Israelites, and by holding back the tide 
of the Red Sea, afforded them a way of escape. 

Now the nations are confounded and looking for 
a way of escape from the evils that overwhelm 
them. There is One who says: "I am the Way, the 
Truth and the Life." 



Copyright by 
Ellen Stata Taylor 



JAN II 1915 



The East Wind 



Oh, East Wind, blowing- over seas, 
In stormy gusts or gentle breeze, 
Relentless foe or steadfast friend, 
We owe you blessings without end. 

When dawned Creation's natal day, 
The East Wind blew the mists away; 
You watched the Allosaurus fight, 
And joined the Pterodactyl's flight. 

You blew o'er Eden and your breath 
The Serpent roused who summoned Death. 
You sighed in pity, and the leaves 
Laid bare their limbs to shelter Eve's. 

Lief Ericsson rode on your gale 
With bounding barque and bellied sail. 
Then Christopher you brought from Spain, 
Who claimed the sea as Spanish Main. 

What treasures have your pinions borne, 
What countless sails your passions torn ! 
How many travellers on their way, 
How many pirates seeking prey, 

Have you impelled across the waves, 
To fortune find or nameless graves! 
The bold and fearless venturer, 
The hapless poor indenturer, 

Who came on deck, in cabin, hold, — 
Freebooter, priest, the young and old ; 
Strong men advancing in their might; 
The Pilgrim seeking God and right ; 



The chosen ones, the brave and best, 
You carried from the East to West. 
Before the harnessing of steam, 
When motor power was a dream, 

Your finger moved the miller's sail, 

Your laugh made ruddy cheeks turn pale. 

You've brought the Old World to our doors 

To scatter to Pacific's shores. 

Old Ocean is your fettered slave, 

And at your word will rant and rave. 

One only is beyond your might, 
One only voice commands your flight. 
His word has power to bid you cease. 
When He commands you, bring us peace. 




The East Wind's Burden. 



(It's through the influence of this same Wind from the 
East all the Gauls shall be ruined in a battle of red slaughter, 
was the prophecy of St. Ultand, A. D. 656.) 



The sad East Wind is moaning 

Across the harbor bar. 
It brings the sound of groaning 

Of wounded lone and far; 
It brings the sound of children 

Who cry aloud in dread ; 
It brings a cry of anguish 

Of those who mourn their dead. 

The soft East Wind is sobbing 

In pity for the men 
Who march away from homeland 

And never come again; 
The new-born's feeble wailing 

No father's ear shall heed ; 
The weary widow's sighing : 

"Oh, God, our children feed !" 

The fearful East Wind's rushing 

In terror from the west. 
Behind, the world is crushing. 

Death there the only rest! 
From where the blessed Neva 

Flows past the palace home 
Of her, the sad Czarina, 

To where the Black Sea's foam 

Is tossed on rocky headland 

Where hosts have met their doom, 
The air, affrighted, trembles 

To cannonadings' boom. 

7 



The mists lie in the valleys, 

The clouds hang- on the hills, 

Beyond them lies — we know not — 
What God in Heaven wills. 

The cold East Wind is sweeping 

Across the Northern Sea ; 
It brings the sound of weeping 

Of dames of high degree ; 
It brings the sound of battle 

On land, on sea, in air ; 
Since Satan fought with Michael, 

No spectacle was there 

To rend the very Heavens 

With all the wrath of Hell ! 
No pen can paint the picture 

Of what the Wind can tell; 
Of souls who pass in anger — 

Sent by their victim's steel. 
Of town and hamlet burning, 

While horsemen clash and reel. 

The wild East Wind is raging 

From fort to leaguered town, 
Where regiments engaging, 

Mow men and horses down; 
Where vultures — bird and human, 

Flying on eager wings, 
To gorge on human slaughter, 

The scent of battle brings. 

The sky above is bending, 

Beneath the mist is land; 
God's sleepless Eye attending, 

And all are in His Hand. 
His Shadow is our refuge ; 

The succor of His Arm 
Shall never fail the true heart; 

The Spirit none can harm ! 
8 



And soon the Wind shall carry 

The clouds away again; 
Prisons and thrones are passing 

To leave but God and men. 
Though crimson runs the Iser, 

The Danube, Rhine and Rhone. 
While frantic Czar and Kaiser 

Each grips a reeling throne, — 
Still God "within the shadow," 

Is watching o'er His own. 




At-one-ment 



(And hath made of one blood all the nations of 
men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and 
hath determined the times before appointed and 
the bounds of their habitations; that they should 
seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after Him 
and find Him."— St. Paul.) 

All the air with noise of battle, 

Shudders cold and deadly chill. 

Cannons boom, and rifles rattle, 
Through the valley, on the hill. 

On the land and on the ocean 

Thousands upon thousands stand, 

Then — a hurricane in motion — 
Devastating all the land. 

Over all the sun is shining 

On the helmets flashing bright. 

Over all the twilight gathers, 

Wrapping all in folds of night. 

All too short, the years so fleeting, 
Could they live their utmost span. 

Of one blood all hearts are beating — 
Moulded in one image — Man. 

Unto all one spirit's given, 

Of one God the vital breath. 

All at once the air is riven 

With one dreadful cry of death. 

All are one in human sorrow, 

One in weariness and pain. 
Dream they all of joy tomorrow, 

When at home they rest again. 
10 



Dust to dust their forms shall mingle, 
In one dreadful, rotting heap. 

Of one blood, their full veins tingle, — 
One to lie in endless sleep. 

Where they fall, friends, foes together. 
In one broken, bleeding mass, 

Friends or foes Death recks not whether, 
Drenched with life-blood is the grass. 

Of one blood, by One created, 

By one sacrifice redeemed, 
One again, when, vengeance sated, 

Past the horrors we have dreamed. 

O Thou Christ, who wept in pity 

O'er Jerusalem, to save 
These Thy blood is all sufficient — 

One with Thee beyond the grave. 

May thy children of all nations, 
Every kindred, every tongue, 

All the countless generations 

Who thy hymns of praise have sung. 

Meet with Thee in adoration 

Of the great I AM— Our God. 

God of every rank and station ! 

His the earth, each leaf and sod ! 

Man created in His fashion, 

When you strike, you strike at Him. 
By His sacred blood and passion, 

Quench not life's flame burning dim. 

Search your hearts, O Prince and Peasant, 
Search your hearts, O Priest and Pope, 

For the dark sins past or present. 

Then repent, bring peace and hope. 

11 



Let Christ's Church, in pure heart hidden,— 
Not 'neath sculptured arch and dome, — 

Cast vain forms out in the midden; 
At one, lead His people home. 

Lift the cross of Christ, our Saviour, 

High above the battle-field. 
Rally round His blood-stained banner, 
Unto Him alone to yield. 

Earth is all a fleeting vision. 

Soon will pass its pomp and pride. 
Time will wipe out each division. 

Only Love and God abide. 

He, the Highest, became lowest, 

Died that those He loved might live. 

Come to Him, to Him thou goest. 
One in Him all men forgive ! 

He pleased not Himself, but, dying, 
Gave His life the world to save, 

And no greater love man knoweth 
Than to follow to the grave. 

For the sins of men and nations 
Ever must pure blood be shed. 

Woe to those whose sins offending 
Send to death our martyred dead ! 

God, Thou Father of all nations, 

Touch our hearts, bid battles cease. 

One in Thee, forgive, forgiven, 

May all peoples know Thy Peace. 



i a 



The Woman With the Pen 

A VISION OF HOPE 



(Written July 25, just before the war broke out.) 

While the harbor bell was tolling 
Dirges for the ships gone down, 

And the heavy swells were rolling 
With a boom its voice to drown, 

Then my vagrant fancy wandered 
Through the ages that are past, 

While I mu3ed and sadly pondered 
On the scenes that could not last. 

There I saw the mighty Ocean 

Rush with thunderous boom and shock, 
Driven by the Wind in motion, 

Dashing on old Plymouth Rock. 

There I saw the ships go sailing 

Far away toward unknown lands. 

There I heard the seabirds wailing 
O'er the shallows in the sands. 

Then there passed a mighty pageant, — 
Armies passed nor came again; 

Empires rose — grim War the agent — 
Rose to fall. All ruled by men! 

While they passed the bells were tolling 

Dirges for the wasted years — 
Years of storms beyond controlling, 

Futile floods of hopeless tears. 

Still the constant, restless motion 
Of the currents deep and strong, 

Of the Universal Ocean! 

Still the Wind's derisive song! 

Still the tides, resistless, hidden, 
Driving men with fierce desires, 

Until, lost within the midden 

Of the world, they seek strange fires. 

13 



Then mine eyes beheld a vision 

As I saw a Woman stand, 
While the Wind's song of derision 

Sank to silence in the land, 

As she spoke the words of warning, 
Warning to the sons of men, 

Telling of the glorious morning 

When the tides shall turn again. 

When the restless, constant currents 

Shall be under sane control, 
And from vain and fruitless striving 

Shall emerge a steadfast soul. 

As the Woman stood before me. 

Holding in her hand a pen. 
Suddenly the thought came o*er me: 

"She shall touch the hearts of men." 

"She shall point the pathway leading 

To the higher field above." 
Then I heard her clear voice pleading: 

"Cease from strife and rule by love." 

Then the Wind, — erewhile a demon, 

Bringing fear and doom and death, 

Mocking with its laugh the seamen 

As they yielded up their breath, — 

Ceased its raving and its raging, 

Buffeting with senseless stress, — 

With the Woman began saving 
Those in sorrow and distress. 

And I saw in this bright vision 
How the Woman held her pen 

Firmly, writing with precision, 
Precepts for the sons of men. 

There she wrote the truth unfearing, 
And her words of living light 

Raised the fainting, and uprearing 

Their bowed heads, they saw new light. 

Little children who were toiling 
Hopelessly in mill and mine, — 

Want and fear their young lives soiling,— 
Saw a light begin to shine. 

14 



Wives and mothers, hopeless, weary, 

Bowed with labor, worn with care, 

Read the words so brave and cheery, 

Read and breathed a thankful prayer; 

Words of peace to bless the nations, 
Making man to man a friend, 

Welding in one whole all stations, 
Bidding war be at an end. 




15 



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